Valkyria Chronicles: The Darcsen Demon
by Jarl of the North
Summary: When war is declared on Gallia, a young "Darcsen Lover" orphan is one of the first to volunteer. Rejected due to his age, he decides to take things into his own hands... and fails. As a result, he is forced to join the Empire in their conquest against his home under one of the last people he'd ever work for - Selvaria Bles. Rated T for violence and language. Read and Review!
1. Prologue Act 1: Striking Disaster

I do not own Valkyria Chronicles. If I did, Selvaria would not have died. At least, not in such a miserable way.

* * *

I moved on through the town towards its outskirts as the sun set, determined to see why my friend Matt hadn't shown up yet to determine plans for what we were going to do to help out in the war effort. I mean, sure, an evacuation order had been given out, but seriously! No one in all of Europa takes this long to pack. Especially not Darcsens, considering how little they owned to begin with most of the time, with how little they're paid for their hard work, which, when done in an hour, was usually better than what most other experienced mechanics could pull together in a week if it involved machinery.

I stood before the iron gate of Matt's house, which, by Darcsen standards, was a mansion in all respects, even if it was just a normal house to other people. Even if Matt's family were just middle class, and even if they were Darcsens, who were considered to be the absolute scum of society, they had a lot of political influence, if not political respect. Still staring at my friend's home, I reached towards the gate to push it open – only for my hand to fall on thin air. My eyes immediately shot to the remains of the gate. Whatever wasn't torn apart had been forced open, the gate in rusting ruins. My eyes shot to the house. One of the windows had been smashed open. A wall was full of holes – bullet holes.

I dashed to the front door and threw it open. As a result, it fell off its hinges and crashed onto the floor, splinters launching across the floor as the cracked door broke apart.

I hesitated only an instant before yelling out "Hey Matt!"

No answer.

I slowly made my way into the house, "Matt? Where are you? Don't you remember that an evacuation order's been given out?"

My calls were answered by a loud curse, and the sound of breaking glass. Only now did my eyes adjust to the darkness to see the damage that had been done. The place had been torn apart, and not by someone with the intention of getting out of what was soon to be a warzone. This was the result of a vandal, or a fight... but who would want to fight Matt's family? Sure, they didn't get much respect from their political rivals, but there was no reason that anyone would want them dead, except maybe that ass, General Damon – they'd dealt some major blows to his pride and reputation, exposing his underhanded tactics in the First Europan War. If anything, most people in Gallia owed them a favour. About ten different favours, give or take, depending on the person.

"Matt?" I called out again, taking a few more tentative steps into the house, my heart beginning to race with fear, "come on, Matt. Knock it off. This isn't funny. Get out here. We need to go, now! War's been declared on us, and there's no telling when they'll-"

I cut myself short, slowly forcing my gaze down as my heart rate shot off the charts, terrified of what I'd stepped in. A cesspool of blood pooled outwards from the center of the floor, and light drips from above registered in my hearing. I felt something drip onto the back of my head, and my gaze shot skywards. I stared in a mixture of sheer terror and horror as blood dripped onto my face from a dead hand that hung from a hole in the ceiling above...

I simply stood there, frozen as blood continued to drip onto me. I don't know how much time passed. All I could do was stand there in the expanding pool of blood, transfixed, until I felt it drip into my mouth.

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't. I bolted, screaming and gibbering like a lunatic as I sprinted to the insides of town. People stared as I ran past – not surprising, considering I was screaming in sheer terror and dripping with blood. Before long my lungs burned for air, but I kept going until I found the people in charge of the town watch. Though curious about the blood, they were skeptical of my story when I finally got it out – at least, until I gave them proof. I didn't want to set foot anywhere near that place again, but alas, I had no choice. I had to show them if it meant getting the word out. They made me wait there as they contacted the "professionals" – also known as Gallia's Information Decryption team, as they introduce themselves when they finally arrived – to come inspect the damage. Question after question was shot at me, even after I told them all I knew multiple times.

I watched as they removed the bodies of Matt and his family. I watched as they removed a shard of glass the size of a sword from Matt's chest, soaked in blood and covered in what I assumed were bits of his lung. Even as they took all the evidence, they told me they'd figure it all out.

I didn't believe them in the slightest.

But they did, over the next day or two. Apparently, Matt and his family had made some pretty major enemies in the Empire. Not just in their opposition to them in their political stance, but out of sheer defiance on top of it, and, despite being Darcsens, who all had their last names taken from them by the Valkyria as a form of punishment for the Darcsen Calamity, had, over a time of the name sticking to their family like glue, accepted the last name I'd given Matt when we were younger: Valkyr. As a result, they were assassinated.

Now, when I'd initially come up with it, I hadn't meant any offense to the legendary Valkyria; I just thought if fit Matt, and the name stuck, eventually spreading to his entire family. But now, the Valkyr family was dead, effectively destroying a powerful political voice in Gallia and eliminating a major potential enemy. Two birds, one stone. Matt and his family were dead because of the impending war. Victims of the Empire's coming slaughter.

And I was going to make the Empire pay for it in blood.


	2. Prologue Act 2: Onslaught of Hatred

I do not own Valkyria Chronicles. If I did, Selvaria would not have died. At least, not in such a miserable way.

* * *

"What the hell do you mean, I'm too young to join?" I demanded, "one of my best friends is dead already, and not a single shot has been fired. I already realize that this is going to be hell!"

"I mean that you're too young to join, militia or army, kid," the soldier before me replied.

I couldn't believe this. They were drafting people who'd just turned fifteen into the military to fight for Gallia, forcing them into a living nightmare that they'd never escape from. And yet here I was, someone ready and willing to fight through that nightmare to protect Gallia, but wasn't allowed to join because I was fourteen? Because of a one year age difference? Ridiculous.

I made no attempt to hide my swears as I turned my back and got ready to stalk off. I heard the soldier behind me say "trust me when I say this kid. I'm not in any way holding you back. I'm saving your life, and your innocence-"

"I lost my innocence a long time ago, you stupid piece of crap!" I cut him off, shifting my jacket slightly to reveal a knife. The other people around me gasped in fright, both the ones that were just minding their own business and the ones that were joining the military, and it became clear that I wasn't the most subtle person when it came to making threats. Then I spat angrily, and, completely ignoring the evacuation order that had been given not three days earlier, walked off towards my home. Ever since my parents died, I was all on my own. Why I wasn't shipped off to an orphanage I have no idea, but I was pretty much left to my own devices after the explosion that took them. No one seemed to care. So in order to get away from it all, I backpacked across Gallia for a year or two, making friends in a lot of different places. There was this one lady, Jane Turner, who I swear to God not only needed anger management classes, as she threatened to kick me to the curb multiple times for not asking before I did a chore or two for her during the time I stayed with her (long story), but was also an insane sadist (she kicked the crap out of a street gang once, with a look of crazed glee that would always spread across her face whenever she heard someone scream in pain. Why she chose to run a flower shop is beyond me, considering her mindset, although I'm willing to bet she secretly grows poisonous plants in the back in case she meets someone she hates. Still, she had her occasional "nice" moments.). But I'm getting off track. All that was important about my home was that it had what I needed. If it weren't for that, I would have burned it to the ground a long time ago.

I walked in through the door and went into my dad's old safe, the one in the cellar hidden under his study. If he were alive and knew what I was doing, he would have killed me for two reasons, the first for going through the things from the First Europan War (something he wanted to forget; he came home drunk more times than what I could remember because of that simple fact), and the second because what I was about to do would in all likelihood get me killed.

_But that's not important,_ I thought as I finally yanked out the rusty, ragtag hunk of metal that he had evidently called a lance. Even though I had a thing for close combat, war was something fought with projectile weapons. I had to swallow my pride if I expected to fight. Even as I pulled out my dad's plans for a custom-made lance and started going over them, gathering the pieces I'd need to complete the hunk of junk that my dad had left behind, I thought _if I can't fight the Empire with the military, then I'll fight the Empire on my own terms._

For hours I worked, gathering the materials I needed, and melting down every piece of metal I could find, removing the rusted pieces from my old man's lance until all that was left was the frame as I melted those down as well. Cutting, shaping, hammering, and melting filled the hours of two days until I completed it. I hadn't even gotten to the test rounds when the first gunshots were fired.

I bolted outside with my newly completed lance. Smoke rose from the outskirts of town as more gunshots sounded, along with several large explosions that reduced several buildings to rubble.

The invasion had begun.

I stood for a moment, then slowly, took out a piece of cloth from my back pocket. It was a light gray, almost beige in colour, and had a pattern of twin lines that intertwined with one another along the center of its length, made up of jagged straight lines, never curving, and a large mark in between where the lines parted – Matt's Darcsen headband.

I stared at it, and then tied it around my head, handling it as if it were the most precious thing I'd ever held, "I hope you're watching, Matt," I breathed, "because I'm going to protect this town with my life."

With that, I shot off towards the gunshots. Once I saw an Imperial squad in range, I immediately brought the lance up on my shoulder and took a practice shot. I found myself winded, stumbling back with an aching shoulder, almost dropping the lance as I fell to my knees. I looked up upon hearing the satisfying explosion that followed, along with the shouts of the Imperials that had been blown away in the dust.

"Drake, one, Imperial Army, zero," I grinned, and then stiffened at a horrible realization: I'd just killed someone. Multiple people had been killed in that single shot I'd fired. I breathed deeply, trying to get myself under control, but ultimately failing as I began to hyperventilate. I swallowed, grabbed onto something, and hit myself hard with it. Fortunately, it brought me back to my senses. Unfortunately, what I'd grabbed happened to be a rock. Blood ran down the side of my face as my head began to clear, though the regret in my gut didn't budge. But it didn't matter what I had to do. If I had to kill the enemy, fine. I'd kill the enemy.

I forced myself to my feet, and ran through the dust and smoke rising from the debris that littered the streets and what remained of the buildings, firing and reloading as I went. They had clearly not been anticipating this kind of weapon to be on the field against them. Every time I stopped to fire, something exploded. Every time I stopped to fire, I saw fear ripple through the enemies' ranks. Every time I stopped to fire, more people died at my hands.

Then the metal grinding against stone began to sound. Closer and closer and louder and louder it drew, bringing a mechanical hum along with it as the soldiers ahead of me, both Gallian and Imperial scattered in fear.

I readied my lance, both eager to take a shot at whatever was coming and ready to sprint in fear at the same time – I had a really bad feeling about the approaching grinding. I froze as my fears were confirmed – a tank rounded the corner, firing its massive main cannon into alleys, barricades, buildings and whatever else held people as it crawled along. I sword, running back through the street as it exploded behind me.

I pulled myself into a back alley, breathing hard as I attempted to reload. I continually glanced out the alleyway as the sound of the tank grew ever closer, until I finally loaded my lance. I lifted it taking aim just as the tank pulled up alongside the alley. The tank head swivelled, centering on me as I fired. Everything seemed to slow. I could actually see my shot in midair as it blasted through the air, and struck the base of the barrel of the tank's main cannon. Everything froze for an instant that seemed like eternity as the tank sat, and then immediately exploded, launching everything back into normal time as it was blasted apart into a shower of shrapnel.

I coughed harshly as I tried to breathe, the air choked with dust and smoke. I dragged myself out of the alley to check out my handiwork. All that was left of the tank was a flaming hunk of metal surrounded by a scorched street and some damaged buildings. I smirked, now seeing why my dad had liked this design of lance in his day. Sure, it was old school, but damn, was it effective, even compared to today's models.

Another explosion brought my attention to a squad of Gallian soldiers and a group of would-be escapees as they were buried in the rubble. I stared in shock, their screams echoing in my ears, and then looked back down the street. An Imperial lancer stood there with his own squad, all of them laughing an slapping each other high fives.

Shock turned to rage as I let out my own scream, a scream of wrath and outrage that would echo in my own ears forever. I raised my lance again, losing all regard for friend or foe, losing all thoughts of self-preservation as I shot a building above the enemy squad. It crumbled instantly, crushing them underneath as I dashed through the streets, now hunting for my prey with a vengeance.

I don't know how many people died in my onslaught. All I know is that I killed a lot of people in cold blood that day, and that in all likelihood, I would have killed more, if I hadn't run into one distinctive soldier. She was incredibly tall, almost six feet in height, with long, silver hair and forbidding red eyes. Not that I particularly cared. I raised my lance, and immediately found her standing over me, easily towering over me by almost half a foot.

"So now Gallia sends children into battle?" she asked coldly, wrenching my lance out of my grip and tossing it away, "how pathetic."

"I'm not here under orders, you bitch!" I snarled, drawing my knife, "I'm here because I want to be!"

I swung my knife up at her throat, only for her to dodge around it, a mixture of a smirk and a look of pity crossing her face. I let out a snarl as I brought my knife back, catching her on the shoulder and ripping through cloth and flesh as I glanced at the blade. Blood dripped lightly from it, even if just a few drops. The woman wiped at the tear in her uniform and stared at the crimson liquid that seeped from the cut and stained her glove before returning her glare to me, this time around with no amusement in her eyes.

"Oops. Looks like I accidentally nicked your shoulder," I smirked, tempted to lick the blade clean of her blood, "and now I'm going to accidentally nick one of your lungs."

I lunged forwards, but before I even got a chance to use my knife, I found myself on the ground, gripping onto my snapped ribs. The last thing I saw before slipping unconscious was the form of the woman standing over me, beautiful but deadly as her hair caught the sunlight and her eyes bored into me as if I were some kind of object to be looked down upon, something to be pitied.

I wanted to say 'stop giving me that look. I despise it when people look at me like that. Especially people like you!' but all I could manage was "Damn you..."


	3. Prologue Act 3: A Friend in the Enemy

I do not own Valkyria Chronicles. If I did, Selvaria would not have died. At least, not in such a miserable way.

* * *

I woke up God knows how much later, with my arms chained up behind my back and my legs chained together with barely enough length for me to take a step, should I actually force myself to my feet.

"So, you're finally awake."

I whirled my head about, searching for the one who'd spoken. I came to look upon a boy no older than me, with shaggy black hair that seemed to wrap around his head and neck like a mane, and a scar over one eye. His face had a smooth complexion, and he was smiling, the first smile I'd seen in months. It was a kind smile, one that actually seemed to care. I would have believed it... had he not been wearing the uniform of an Imperial officer.

"Y... You..." I choked on my own spittle as I struggled to stand.

"Hey, don't exert yourself now. You have been out for several days, you know. I was beginning to wonder if General Bles had accidentally killed you."

"Shove it up your ass, you Imperialist bastard!" I snarled, now trying even harder to force myself into a standing position, with very little success.

"Gallian. Just like I thought. Should've guessed you weren't going to be friendly," he scratched his chin. Then he reached out, grabbed a tray from a nearby table, and put it in front of me. Then he unlocked the shackles on my arms, "eat. You'll need your strength, especially considering how Maximilian sent a direct order for you to be brought to him immediately once you were conscious. He sent the order right after the General gave him her report on what happened."

Reluctantly beginning to eat, I asked "now why would the almighty Imperial Prince take any interest in a boy who couldn't even become a soldier?"

"My guess?" he cocked an eyebrow, "it's probably because you took the Generals' fist to the ribs without dying, and slaughtered about two companies all on your own with nothing but a lance. A hand-me-down piece of improvised junk, at that, no matter how effective it turned out to be," he pointed at my lance, which lay there in the corner, tossed there by uncaring hands, "from the way he's doing things, my guess is that Maximilian intends to turn you into a soldier-"

"Forget it," I shouted, cutting him off, "I won't work for some bastard who doesn't care about who he has to kill to get what he wants."

He cocked his eyebrow again, "okay, first off, wasn't that what you did when you killed all those men back in town?"

"No. You were invading my home. I wanted you out. I did what I had to, and wound up failing all the same, so it doesn't make much difference now. But all the same, it doesn't mean that I didn't care about the people I killed," I glared at him, now taking notice of his emerald eyes, "wouldn't you do the same if it meant protecting something dear to you?"

He scratched at his chin again, then shrugged, "fair enough. But I wouldn't be so sure about that last bit about not doing as he orders you to. Don't tell anyone I said this, because this would get me in a really bad spot on General Bles' hit list, but Maximilian is ruthless when it comes to bringing people under his control. He can and will turn you into his soldier, even if it means putting innocent lives on the line."

"See? Told y- hey, wait a minute. Talking badly about your own ruler?" I tilted my head in question.

His face immediately turned feral, twisting with rage, "first of all, that bastard isn't our ruler, and he never will be. Not if I have anything to say about it. And secondly, not all of us are here by choice, you know."

I let that sink in as he turned away, his face slowly unraveling back to its natural state.

"Besides," he added, "anything that isn't useful to him is garbage that needs to be burned. That's the way Maximilian's mind works. If you won't work for him, he'll burn you alive. No questions asked."

I took a moment to put the puzzle together. Then I asked "you were drafted into the military, weren't you?"

He snorted, "more like I was forced to. When the conflicts first started, I was caught in the crossfire at one point. The only reason I stayed alive was because I was a good shot with my mom's old sniper rifle. In one day I killed about fifty people, probably more, to keep myself and my family safe. Eventually we ran into a guy named Jaeger, and he, out of the goodness in his heart, protected me and my family during the conflicts. Unfortunately, when he sent his report to Maximilian, the Prince took an interest in my skills. He tried to get me to join twice, and both times I refused. On the third time, he took me to a balcony and made me watch as my mom and dad were killed by the firing squads. 'One for each of your refusals,' he said as they brought my sister, who was all I had left, out to face the squad, 'now, I shall ask once more. Will you join me in the conquering of Gallia? Or shall I order my men to fire?'" the boy stared up at the ceiling above us, "I had no choice. It was either join, or watch my sister die. I've been the ace sniper for General Selvaria Bles ever since," he turned to me, "trust me when I say this; Maximilian _will_ find a way. And you won't be able to do a _thing_ about it."

There was another silence. Then he brightened, "oh, I almost forgot. I saved something of yours from confiscation," he tossed a beige piece of cloth towards me.

I picked it up, and immediately recognised it as my Darcsen headband, "how...?"

"The others were going to burn it. The Empire isn't that fond of Darcsens, or anything to do with them for that matter, so I would suggest that you hide it."

I hesitated, then stuffed it into my back pocket again, "thanks, I guess."

"Don't mention it. And if you know what's good for you, keep quiet around the other soldiers unless you give them respect, even if it's feigned respect. Not all of them are going to put up with your kind of attitude," he glanced at me, an eyebrow cocked once again and tapping at his scar, "I learned that the hard way. You are damn lucky it was me who got assigned guard duty, kid."

"I can see why."

We sat in silence for a moment, neither speaking, neither moving. Suddenly another guard burst in, his helmet clanking about, "they're getting impatient. Isn't he awake yet?"

The helmetless soldier before me gestured, and the new guard stiffened as he turned his head to look at me.

"I- In that case, it's time to move. The transport is ready."

"Understood," the soldier stood, stretching out and yawning. Then he clamped the manacles back onto my arms, "come on. We have to go."


	4. Prologue Final Act: Cruelty of a Prince

I do not own Valkyria Chronicles. If I did, Selvaria would not have died. At least, not in such a miserable way.

* * *

I swallowed hard as the manacles were unclamped from my arms. I spent several days riding along in a transport with a tiny cell, with the only things to do being eat and sleep. Not that I got much food or rest, anyways.

"Wait here," said the guard who unclamped my manacles, "His Grace will see you shortly."

As the guard walked away, the soldier I'd met who gave me my headband made a face, "I can't stand how they call him that. It's obvious he's a monster. Why do they follow him?"

"Don't ask me," I rubbed at my sore wrists.

There was a short silence. Then, he extended his hand, "Leo."

"Huh?" I asked.

"My name is Leo Marksworth. And yours?"

I hesitated, then took his hand, "Draco. My name is Draco, but most people call me Drake. I don't remember my last name, due to the fact that it's been so long since I've tried to think of it."

Leo smiled, "alright, Drake. I guess I'll be seeing you again if you make it out of there, huh?"

I grimaced as I looked ahead. A pair of massive red doors stood before me, something that would lead to the throne room of the Prince Maximilian. I can't say I was too excited to be meeting royalty.

"I guess so," I responded slowly.

Just then, a guard came to us from the side. He inspected me slowly, as if I were some kind of time bomb. Then he spoke "His Grace will see you, now. Watch your step, and your tongue, boy. One wrong move may well be the last thing you do."

As the great doors before us opened, Leo nodded, "good luck."

I walked cautiously through the doors as Leo and the other guard turned tail and left, and then the doors swung shut. The entire room had dark red walls, eerily reminding me of the colour of blood. In the center of the room, an ornately carved table sat with a large map spread out over it – a map of Gallia, I realized, with markers telling off which places were taken, which places belonged to the enemy, and which places were potential targets. The floor was made up of black marble, and a total of four people were gathered in the room. The first, sitting down at the table was an old man, with sharp facial features, clean shaven with short blond hair and pale blue eyes that were aided by glasses, and the hat and uniform of an Imperial General. He glanced up at me from the map, and though he seemed to want to turn back to the map again, he kept his gaze on me, and despite that he never even said anything to me, his attitude made me want to punch him out. Break his glasses and kick his ass into next week. The second, who sat across from the old man, was far different from the first, as his face was rougher in its features. He had long brown hair pulled into a spiked pony tail, with neatly trimmed sideburns that never went past his ears, and a neat, recently trimmed beard that he obviously put a lot of work into. His dark brown eyes danced with amusement as looked at me, and then folded his hands behind his head, smirking and never taking his eyes off me. His uniform being a long brown coat with black armour on his right arm, and what appeared to be an ox skull adorning his shoulder. Dark red adorned the front of his coat, and the black pants he wore became apparent as he leaned back in his chair, putting his black leather boots up on the table. I don't really know why, but I decided that I liked this guy. The third, standing off to the side nowhere near the table I immediately recognised to be the lady who knocked me out in that fight back home. The smooth features of her face, the reflective silver hair, the red eyes that trained on me like a hawk the instant they locked onto me, the black uniform over her luscious body... no mistake, she was definitely the one who knocked me unconscious. I remembered how Leo talked about how a General was the one who beat me that day, and her name... Selvaria Bles. Yeah, that was it. I held back my temptation to spit in her direction as I turned my gaze to the fourth figure. This one, sitting on a white marble throne beyond the table upon a set of steps, had a bit of a balance between Selvaria's smooth facial features, and the second guy's rougher ones. He had short, curly blond hair that almost seemed to be bleached, blue eyes that seemed to pierce into my very being as he studied me with that same regal expression he'd had when I first looked at him, a set of pure white plated armour with gold trimming on the edges and a gold crown shaped to look like a wreath of laurels that adorned his head – judging from his flashy appearance, I assumed this guy to be Maximilian.

For a while, no one moved or spoke. Finally, the first guy broke the silence, his voice sharp and clear, "this is the boy you sent for, Your Grace?" he stood, taking a gold-tipped cane and striding towards me with a brisk swagger. He stood much taller than Selvaria, looking me over, "he is nothing more than a child. Surely he couldn't have killed so many of our soldiers. Unless he were a fully trained Valkyrur, there would have been no way he could have done so."

I was about to make a smartass comment of my own when Selvaria intervened, her voice beautiful, regal, commanding, "I saw it with my own eyes, Gregor. The boy is far stronger and tenacious than his appearance would make it seem. And he will surely only get stronger from here on out."

Gregor shot a look of venom at the silver-haired woman, but moved back to the table to sit back down nonetheless.

"So, I hear that you took a fully-fledged punch from Selvaria and managed to stay alive. How'd you manage something like that?" the second guy looked at me questioningly, his voice like a waterfall, clear, yet thunderous. He stood up and made his way over to me the same way Gregor had, but without the swagger; he was clearly the most easygoing of them all. He wasn't quite as tall as Gregor was, but he still towered over me even more than Selvaria did.

I shrugged, "no idea. I'm just glad that I'm alive. Although," I smirked, "I could do without the constant, nagging reminder that I've been taken prisoner by the enemy. I've been chained up multiple times over the last week, and it's getting on my nerves. Makes me want to say 'if you're going to lock someone up, then lock them up. Don't just lock them up, then let the chains go just to do it all over again. It makes you look like an indecisive idiot. Or, makes your boss look that way, at least.' I mean, come on! What kind of guard does that?"

He stood for a moment, then began laughing, "I like this kid," he ruffled my hair like I was a child.

"Stop patronizing him, Jaeger. I called him in to examine him, and to make him an offer accordingly, not to give him congratulations or allow him to make mockeries of our soldiers," a regal, commanding voice rang throughout the room.

Jaeger turned, and Maximilian rose from his throne, and began walking towards us, Selvaria joining his side.

"Jaeger?" I thought aloud, and something clicked in my head, "does that mean that you know Leo Marksworth?"

Jaeger looked down at me with surprise, and his expression turned to one of slight sadness, "yeah. I know Leo, alright. Is he okay?"

"So far as I can tell. He doesn't think too highly of him though," I tilted my head towards Maximilian, and Jaeger nodded.

"Stand aside, Jaeger," Maximilian commanded.

Jaeger obeyed, going back to his seat, his face still holding the note of sadness from my bringing up Leo. Maximilian, only slightly shorter than Jaeger, began to look me over, Selvaria beginning to do the same in turn. After the both of them had circled me multiple times, looking me over as if they were hyenas checking to see if their prey was dead, Maximilian put his hand to his face in thought.

"I require a moment of thought," he decided, striding towards the door behind me, but this time Selvaria stayed behind, her towering form a little too close for comfort, especially considering that I could barely resist the urge to try and punch her out.

"Take your time. No hurry here," I called after him, sarcasm tinged in my voice. Jaeger smirked again, and Selvaria's hand twitched, inching towards the sword she wore at her waist. Gregor's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Impudent brat," Gregor snarled, "I should-"

"Ah, calm down, Gregor. If His Grace really took offense to that, the kid would already be getting hauled off towards the prison cells for torture," Jaeger met my eyes, and though it looked like he was simply trying to calm Gregor down, it was obviously a warning of what would happen if I didn't cut the crap.

I swallowed again, thinking about Leo. Did he really have to go through all this too?

Before long Maximilian returned, his face unchanged from when I first saw him, "I have decided," he stated.

"Why do I have a really bad feeling about this?" I wondered aloud as Maximilian took his seat back at his throne.

"I am going to make you an offer, boy," he stated.

"What kind of offer?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"I am going to give you the chance to become a soldier in the Imperial Army in the war against Gallia," he confirmed my suspicions, "and allow you a chance to increase your power once a little... project that I'm working on is completed-"

"No thanks," I snarled, cutting him off. I felt the tension in the air as Selvaria clenched her fists, and Gregor clicked something on his cane. Jaeger shook his head; this was not going to end well.

There was a short silence, and then Maximilian cocked his head slightly, "I will offer you once again. If you join me in the war, I will make you stronger. Far stronger than what you are now."

"Forget it. I'm not going to work with you, so get that through your head. And for another thing," I reached into my back pocket, pulling out my Darcsen headband, clenched tightly in my hand so they couldn't see it for what it was, "I don't like the sound of this project of yours. Whatever it is, I want no part in it."

Another silence. Selvaria's hand hovered over her sword as she stared at my tightly clenched hand. She knew I had something in my hand.

"So, I take it that you won't listen to reason?" Maximilian asked.

I said nothing. Instead, I raised my hands to my head, letting the headband loose as I tied it around my head. When I finished tying it, I shot a smirk towards Maximilian, proof of my pride in wearing the headband and using it as a form of defiance, and spat on the ground before him. Jaeger flinched, and Gregor stood up with such speed that his legs gave out from under him, sending him sprawling on the marble floor. The next thing I knew, Selvaria had me pinned against the ground, ready to stab me in the back for my insolence to the Imperial Prince.

"Enough!"

Maximilian's voice rang throughout the room again. He stood, "Selvaria, release him. There's something I wish to show him that may be of some... leverage."

Selvaria slowly but surely got off of me, but never took her sword away from my back as Maximilian approached.

"Come," he spoke, gesturing for me to follow. Reluctantly, I obeyed, Selvaria close behind in case I tried to pull anything. I was sorely tempted to ask if he kept her around because he couldn't fight his own battles, but ultimately decided to keep my mouth shut.

We walked out the red doors and through the darkened hallways. I kept trying to think of ways out of this, but it was no use. I'd be caught, in all likelihood killed, either just stabbed or executed, and that would just mean a really bad day. A really bad day that was the last day of my life.

Soon we came to another set of doors, smaller and a simple oak shade of brown. Upon opening them, Maximilian led the way out onto a balcony, gesturing for me to follow but requesting that Selvaria wait outside the door. Taking a long good look at my surroundings on the balcony, I not only found that we were way too high up for me to try and jump for it, but we were also looking over a sort of prison yard. Red brick made up its fifty foot walls, and barbed wire decorated its top and base, effectively keeping visitors out and – more importantly – would-be-escapees in. I swallowed hard as a squad marched out onto the grounds, all of them clutching rifles.

"Feast your eyes, boy," Maximilian commented, "you are about to see what happens to those who stand in my way."

As the squad took their places, some guards came out, hauling prisoners along with them – Darcsens. Their black hair caught the sunlight as they were dragged across the yard to face the squad, a look of defeat upon each of their faces and reflected in their coal-coloured eyes, their Darcsen cloth in shambles as each wore them a different way. Ten in all, they were lined up before the firing squad, all of them giving looks of sheer collapse.

The squad leader looked up at Maximilian. The Prince raised his hand, and flicked it down, giving the squad the order they needed.

What happened next was a form of absolute torture. Instead of simply ending it with a bullet, the squad aimed for the painful, non-lethal parts of the body as they struck each target, making the prisoners writhe and scream in agony. Repeating their pattern, they shot again and again until all of the Darcsens were dead, and they brought out another ten to face the firing squad.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I shouted, getting Maximilian's attention.

"You are to witness this so that you know who you are dealing with, boy," his voice was icy with cruelty and indifference, "thus far you have refused my offer twice, and openly defied me by accepting the Darcsen heritage as your own. Thus, for each offense, ten Darcsens must die," he raised his hand again, and brought it down, making more screams echo upwards as I was forced to watch. Again and again the bullets sounded until there were thirty dead bodies on the ground, lifeless. I stared in sheer horror at the atrocity, and another squad was brought out.

My eyes widened. They were kids – anywhere between the age of six and fifteen, they were dragged out to face the firing squad. Whenever one cried out, they were struck hard, knocked to the ground to be forced to their feet again and struck again for falling. I began to tremble, almost unable to process what was happening.

"The price for your offenses to me has been paid. Now, I shall offer you once more. Will you join me in the battle against Gallia, and allow the strength of the Empire to flow through your veins?" Maximilian asked, "or shall I give the order to fire?"

I said nothing, unable to speak, or even move. The only sound I made was the sound of my trembling body as I tried to come to terms to what just happened.

Maximilian slowly raised his hand, causing the soldiers to ready their guns in anticipation.

Right as he was about to bring his hand down, I grabbed onto his arm, "DON'T DO IT!"

He stopped, looking down at me with cold, emotionless eyes, "do you accept my offer?"

I swallowed, choking back sobs of defeat and hate, "yes..."

"Then you will fight with me against Gallia?"

"I'll do what you say," I fell to my knees at his feet, trying to force my tears of anger back, "just... don't kill any more innocent people. Please. No more," I begged, "no more..."

He hesitated, and then slowly, oh so slowly lowered his hand, which caused the firing squad to scatter in disappointment, releasing the Darcsen children, "in which case your training will begin within the next week, after you've proven your worth on your first mission. I will give you a moment, and then we will return to the war room."

With that, he promptly left, leaving me there on the balcony. I smashed my fist into the ground, now making no attempt to hide my tears of defeat, making no attempt to smother my sobs of hate, rage and humiliation, "damn it... damn it... Damn it..." with each swear I pounded my bleeding knuckles harder and harder into the marble balcony. Pain shot through my hands with each strike, but I barely noticed; the emotional and mental pain blocked it out with ease, "Damn it!... Damn it! DAMN IT! DAMN IT ALL! DAMN IIIIT!"

I breathed hard, slowly, choking on my own sobs as my words of rage echoed all around me. I kneeled there for a long time, until I felt a hand clap down on my shoulder. I looked up to see Jaeger, his eyes full of compassion, as if he understood what I experiencing.

"There isn't much I can say to help, huh?" he asked.

"What do you think?" I asked, smiling bitterly.

"That's what I thought," he knelt down beside me, staring off into space as he continued talking, "there isn't going to be much I can do for you, but I can try to get you into either my regiment, or Selvaria's. I won't have the final say, that goes to Maximilian. But I can influence his decision."

"Selvaria? Why her?" I grumbled, no longer sobbing but still containing the bitter note in my voice.

"I know you two didn't have the best introduction, but she might be even better for you than I would. She is one of the few generals who actually considers her men's feelings and back history, and won't allow them to go to pointless deaths. She fights on the front lines with her men, no matter how dangerous it is. Even if she does have the power to do so without fear, that is a brave action."

"Which is why she was at my hometown during the attack," I growled.

"Exactly. She and her regiment were on the way to attack Fortress Ghirlandio. Your home just happened to be in the way," Jaeger stood, stretching out his arms. Then he offered his hand to me, "you ready to head back, Draco?"

I stiffened in shock, but took his hand anyways, "how do you know my name?"

"Leo told me on the way here. Ran into him in the halls," he helped me up, "now, are you ready to head back?"

I thought a moment at the second time he asked, then nodded. He smiled, opening the balcony doors. Maximilian and Selvaria still stood there, and then they all began moving back through the halls towards the war room, me following close behind Jaeger.

Once we reached the massive red doors, Jaeger put his hand on my shoulder, "wait here," then they all went inside, leaving me to mull over my fate before the shut doors. I paced back and forth for over an hour, wondering what I could do and arguing with myself.

"Could I try to assassinate Maximilian? Nah, that would just get me and a bunch of other people killed. Maybe I could bide my time, and make a run for it? No, I'd get caught eventually, these people know what they're doing. Maybe I could gather tons of explosives and blow this entire place sky-high. But the war would already be over by the time I gathered enough explosives, ending with Gallia losing," I groaned under my breath, smacking myself in the forehead, "ugh... why me?"

The massive red doors opened, and I instinctively tensed, ready for a fight. Instead, Maximilian motioned for me to come forwards, "come forth, boy."

I moved with caution, making no attempt to hide the loathing in my gaze. The three Generals simply stared at me, and Maximilian stated "we have decided where we shall put you in the military. You have been assigned to General Selvaria Bles' regiment under lancer duty. You will do as your superiors tell you without question, and without complaint. Is this understood?"

"Sir, yes sir," I growled through gritted teeth.

He glared at me, and gave me a dismissive wave of his hand, "your first assignment will be to accompany Selvaria's squad to Ghirlandio and to take it for the Empire. Selvaria will decide the rest of your orders and the specifics of the mission."

"Your Grace, I want you to reconsider," Jaeger suddenly urged, "I don't care how strong Selvaria says he is, the fact is that the boy isn't ready for this. If you send him to Ghirlandio, then he is going to die."

"It is not your place to question me, Jaeger," Maximilian eyed him coldly, "or do you want Fhirald to have its freedom?"

Jaeger grated his teeth, and Maximilian turned to Selvaria, "you set out for Ghirlandio tonight. Get the supplies you need, and leave immediately."

"Understood," she responded, walking past me through the gigantic doors, "come along."

"And one more thing, boy."

I stopped, turning to face Maximilian, "if you show even the slightest sign that I cannot trust you, then I will have every single Darcsen in that prison killed. Understood?"

I grated my teeth at his threat – no, his promise as he dismissed me from the war room. I clenched my fists, my body shaking. I was barely able to contain my rage as I struggled to catch up to Selvaria, each of her long strides worth two of my own, forcing me to go nearly three times as fast as what I would normally walk at to keep up.

I followed her through the halls as she went to gather her remaining squad members to leave. My eyes narrowed as I forced myself not to try and kill any of them. When we found Leo, he immediately took notice of my Darcsen headband. He shook his head and added a face palm for effect, asking himself why I was such an idiot before asking me "so, how'd they 'convince' you?"

I didn't answer. All I could think about was how I was going to butcher Maximilian the first chance I had. But for now, I had to bide my time. I would focus on vengeance later. Right now, I had to be a good soldier for the Empire. Otherwise, more innocent people would die pointless deaths.

I gave a silent curse, and followed the squad to the vehicles that would take us to the rest of the regiment outside Ghirlandio.

* * *

All right. That's all I've got for now. But one thing, guys: I need to know how I'm doing here. Please, I need you to review and give me your thoughts if I'm going to continue this story. Seriously. I'll continue because I want to write this, but I need a little help here.

Jarl of the North


	5. Chapter 1: Summons of the General Part 1

I do not own Valkyria Chronicles. If I did, Selvaria would not have died. At least, not in such a miserable way.

* * *

I took in a breath of the warm afternoon air as I hefted the handgun that had come with my uniform lightly, passing it from hand to hand as I stared at the helmet that I'd set up on a fencepost.

"Stupid Imperials," I muttered as I raised the handgun, pointing it at the helmet.

"You probably shouldn't do that."

I turned to see Leon leaning against one of the supply tents that had been set up. We were pretty much just outside of Ghirlandio, no more than a couple hours away on foot. Leon shook his head, "that's part of the uniform, you know. It isn't a good idea to go trashing it, no matter how much you hate the Empire."

I turned my attention back to the helmet, "there's no way I'm wearing that thing. A, it looks stupid. B, it'll only get in my way."

I heard Leon's footsteps as he approached, "and what if you take a bullet to the head? That helmet just might save your li-"

I cut him off with a single gunshot. The bullet pierced the metal that made up the helmet, going straight in the front, straight out the back, and kicking up the dust in a pile of dirt somewhere behind it. I turned to glare at Leon, "the Empire's economy must really be trashy if they're army is relying on those helmets for protection. Those things are about as tough as tin cans. You really think it's going to save my life if I take a headshot?" I pointed the handgun to my own head for effect, waiting for his answer. But apparently Leon had nothing to say to counter that one. I returned my attention to my helmet/target practice, "if only it were Maximilian's head I were using," I muttered, firing another shot.

"Here, here," he sighed.

I merely fired a third shot in response. The flaps of my headband whipped about wildly in the wind as it strengthened, blowing my fourth shot off course. I grated my teeth as I fired again, then twice more. All the shots missed. The helmet rattled about on the fencepost, as if taunting me. At that, I unloaded the rest of the clip at the piece of metal, each bullet ripping through the helmet and reducing it to little more than scrap.

"Well that was a waste of a good helmet."

We both turned to see yet another Imperial soldier, dressed from head to toe in dark red. Though I still wasn't good with ranks, I could still tell what this guy served as - a shock-trooper, judging from his uniform. I felt my eyes narrow as I popped out the clip, and slammed a new one into the gun, never taking my attention from the soldier, "and you are?"

"Oh, he's a friend of mine," Leon said quickly, "Drake, this is Otto. Otto-"

"Yeah. The new kid that His Grace wanted to see, right?" Leon flinched at the title, and my eyes narrowed even further. Otto stepped forwards, a note of happiness in his voice, "wow. It must have been a real honor for you. Actually meeting the Imperial Prince himself-"

"Otto-" Leon tried to warn him.

Keyword tried. Too little, too late.

In the next instant I had my gun to the shock-trooper's forehead, my finger itching to take off the safety and pull the trigger, "no. I can't say it was much of an honor," my voice came out as a cold snarl.

Otto's hands came up defensively, "hey, hey, hey, I'm not looking for trouble here. All I wanted was to try and make a friend or two."

"Well you're certainly doing a stellar job," I stated, pulling the gun from the man's head. I took off the safety, and took aim at the mess of a helmet again.

"Okay, maybe that was kind of stupid of me. I should have guessed that you wouldn't have the best opinion of Prince Maximilian, so I'm sorry about that," I took a shot as he paused for a moment, "but can we please not start off on the wrong foot, here? I want to have as many friends as I can by the time this is over."

"You tell me," I took another shot, biting my lip and making it bleed in my concentration, "I give people the respect that the deserve from what I've seen. You give me my space, I'll give you yours."

"Sounds fair," Otto requited, and I took one last shot at the helm. Satisfied that it was in pieces, I walked up to the remains of the helmet, and put one final bullet in the symbol of the Empire, obliterating the eagle with a smirk before reactivating the safety and holstering the gun. As I turned on my heel, Otto spoke up, "okay, two things."

"Yeah?" I asked, wary of what he wanted.

"First off, why do you wear that headband?" he asked, pointing at the Darcsen cloth wrapped around my forehead, "you have to wear it for some reason. I don't hate Darcsens or anything, but it's something that's going to get you into trouble with the others."

"It belonged to my best friend. That's all you need to know. As for what the others think, to hell with them. I couldn't care less," I rubbed at my headband for an instant before turning back to Otto.

He shrugged, "fair enough. I don't think it'll cause problems with General Bles. She actually seems to sympathize with the Darcsens for some reason. Kind of ironic, considering she's the Valkyrur Witch," at that last bit, something in my head clicked. The silver hair, the red eyes, her insane strength... it all added up. But it shouldn't be possible. The Valkyria died out centuries ago. But if their line were to have survived somehow, someway...

Otto continued, "word is you've barely met the General and you already hate each others' guts."

"Not too far off the mark," I commented, folding my arms.

Otto shrugged again, "I don't know her very well, only a couple of minor orders to collect weaponry and such, but just stay out of her way and you should be fine-" he froze, then smacked himself in the forehead so hard we could hear the echo in his helmet, "aw, man. Looks like staying out of her way isn't going to be much of an option for you."

I blinked, "don't tell me she already wants me dead. I didn't do anything wrong yet! Well, besides spit at Maximillian, but that's beside the point!"

Otto stared at me through the slit in his helmet, then sighed, "nah, nothing like that. I just remembered that the General asked to see you, Leon, my friend Johann, and a guy from Fhirald _by name._ Doesn't look like you guys are getting out of this one."

I sighed, staring up at the sky, "just tell me where I have to go, and I'll make it out fine."

"General Bles' tent is the big one near the end of the compound. Just get through the barracks and it'll be right at the end," Otto pointed, and I swore under my breath.

"Thanks" I uttered the word as I turned to leave, Leon close behind me.

"Any time!" Otto called out, and I smirked. Maybe Imps weren't so bad after all.

* * *

Sorry if this chapter seems kind of short, but there's an OC I'm going to use from another author, who wants me to wait until his fanfiction, Embers of Life is up and running so that people don't suspect him of character theft. If I were to continue this chapter, I'd wind up using the character, and thus would be breaking my commitment to my deal. So sorry, but I didn't want to keep you waiting too long either. Please review. I need to know what you think, or my stories won't turn out well.


	6. Chapter 1: Summons of the General Part 2

I do not own Valkyria Chronicles. If I did, Selvaria would not have died. At least, not in such a miserable way. Also, I've been given permission by the author to write this early, using his OC. I will only say this: Oxford belongs to BlindFury the Ultimate, and is being used with permission.

* * *

DRAKE

As I stepped in through the flaps of the tent, there was an immediate change in the atmosphere. Before I'd entered, the soldiers were bustling about, going about their business, a relaxed feeling overtaking my tenseness. Now, a feeling of regal power had come over me, sending chills down my spine, as well as a ripple of fear. I felt myself tense as Leo's hand clapped down on my shoulder, then relaxed slightly as I took in the interior of the tent. An ornately carved mahogany table dominated the center of the tent, the edges catching the dim light like a knife blade when held up to the sun. Battle plans and a map had been strewn across it like someone were in a hurry, and a huge map had been spread across the back wall, the stained parchment clashing with the dark red fabric and tarps that made up the tent. Lanterns either hung from the ceiling or stood upright on the ground and table, illuminating what would have been the dim tent of General Selvaria Bles.

"So let me get this straight," I ran my hand along the edge of the table, "they're willing to send these freakishly expensive tables out to the battlefield so the General has something to push paper around on, but they're too cheap to supply us foot soldiers with proper armour? Not even stronger helmets? What do they think we are, expendable tools that come on a conveyer belt?"

"You might want to watch what you say," Leo stated, shaking his head slightly, "I don't know about you, but I don't want to push it. Besides, the General doesn't just 'push paper.' You're lucky she isn't here, otherwise you wouldn't be standing... oh."

"What?" I glanced at him, and he pointed to the corner of the tent. I followed his gaze, and found myself staring at a literal giant of a man leaning against the wall of the tent, his arms crossed and his dark, intense gaze set directly on me. He towered at a height of at least seven feet, and his heavily muscled body made it clear that he was no lighter than three hundred fifty pounds. Scars crisscrossed across where his lancer uniform didn't cover his body, and a mustache ran along the top of his lip before combining with the thick beard that hung from his face all along his jawline. His long hair had been tied back behind his head, and a helmet lay on the ground at his feet, but this was no Imperial piece of trash; that was genuine Fhiraldian metal work, made from pure steel, something many people would kill just to get their hands on.

He continued to stare at me as we sized each other up, with me groping through my mind for his name. I'd heard of this guy before, but I couldn't quite place it. He gave a smirk, a powerful accent making itself known in his voice, "so this is the boy that took a strike from the General. I can't say I think much of you, just from looking at you."

I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and my jaw involuntarily set in a sudden blaze of anger in my gut. I gave my own smirk as I finally remembered his name, "and you're Oxford, the guy from Fhirald. You have quite a name for yourself back in Gallia. Most returning tourists from your country call you the 'Beast of Theoks.' They say your first real arena fight was against the previous champion of Theoks, and you beat him down without a scratch. You've supposedly gone unmatched, unbeaten throughout your whole career. But that makes me wonder, is that a title you really deserve? Or are all your fights in the arena staged?"

His smirk wavered slightly, his grip on his arms tightening, "oh, so you have a tongue, do you?" he uncrossed his arms as he took a step forwards, "you might want to be more careful about who you challenge and insult, boy. Some are not as forgiving as I am."

"Drake," Leo's hand clapped down on my shoulder, "how about you give it a rest before he tears your arms off? Or do you have a death wish?" Leo's shaky voice rang through the tent, his advice promptly ignored in a silent staring contest between me and the giant.

"Sounds like I just hit a nerve," I felt my smirk widen, "was that a nerve? Oh, that was a nerve."

"I don't take kindly to being mocked, boy," the giant flexed his fingers slightly, his voice laced with venom, "you would do well to remember that."

"You don't, huh? Well, I'll keep that in mind for when you quit mocking me," I felt my hand trail to my handgun, "that's how it works with me, you got it? You give me my space, I'll give you yours."

His smirk returned, his eyes on the hand that inched ever closer to my gun, "so you think you can threaten me, boy? With that toy, no less?" he let out a hearty laugh, leaving it echoing in my ears as he spoke again, "tell me, do you think you can get that gun out of its holster, take aim, and pull the trigger before I snap your neck? Have you even killed a man before?" he flexed his fingers again, "a weapon in the hand of a murderer is a danger. A weapon in the hand of a child, however, is nothing to worry over."

I paused for a moment, then drew my gun, Leo's protests totally drowned out by the constant beat of anger that rang in my ears, "the difference between me and a kid," I hissed, removing the safety from the gun, "is that I can pull this trigger."

Oxford raised an eyebrow, "oh, can you now?" he loomed over me, shadows covering his face, "shall we put that to the test?"

"I've pulled it before, I'll do it again. You want to try me on that?" I stared up at the giant, my eye giving a slight twitch "don't come crying to me me when you've got a bullet in your skull."

The next series of events were little more than a flash. The next thing I knew, Oxford was behind me, holding my left arm in a death grip as he pulled it across my throat and pressed it against the side of my neck, followed up by his own left arm as he slipped it under mine and fastened it against the other side of my neck - a submission hold, I realized as I reacted without thought, lining the barrel of the gun up directly between his eyes. I felt my pulse increase as I instinctively tightened my grip on the trigger, and he let out a chuckle, "if you're going to kill me, then now's your chance," I craned my neck as far as I could to get a better look at him, and he stared at me, his eyes like ice, "go on. Pull the trigger."

I felt my eyes narrow, "I could say the same to you. If this is some kind of test," I cocked the gun, "I'll be more than happy to oblige you."

There was a short silence before Oxford let out another chuckle that erupted into another set of hearty laughter, his grip on me disappearing, his hand moving from my arm and my neck to clap me hard on the back, "I can see why both Maximillian and the General took an interest in you! You have guts, if nothing else."

I blinked, then let my finger hover over the safety, ready to either re-engage it or pull the trigger, "so this really _was_ some kind of test."

"Yes. A test. Nothing more," his grin lessened to a smirk, "Drake, was it?" I nodded, and he continued "I can already tell, you and I are either going to get along just fine..."

"Or be at each other's throats," I sighed, re-engaging the safety before glancing at Leo. The sniper stood in the corner, as though trying not to be noticed by the giant before us.

Oxford nodded, then allowed his gaze to turn cold as he stared at Leo, his arms crossed, "a sniper... Leo Marksworth, correct?"

Leo slowly turned, giving a slight nod. Oxford merely spat at my friend, and another voice echoed in my ears before I could react.

"Is there a problem?"

I glanced to my left to see Selvaria emerge from behind the tarp wall that held up the map, followed by a seemingly timid young man who almost cowered behind her, his helmet rattling slightly as I took him in. An engineer, from his uniform.

Oxford and Leo brought their hands up in salute, the giant speaking out "no, General. Just sorting some things out. Where did you find him, anyways?" he gestured towards me, "he has guts, if nothing else. He'll make a good soldier, perhaps even a decent warrior.'

"That doesn't matter right now, Oxford," her eyes narrowed as she focused on me, then my hand, then back to me, her eyes set in a glare and her voice laced with venom as she spoke out again, "and you will put that away. I will not tolerate any more of your games. Am I understood?"

I glanced down at the gun in my hand, then shrugged, holstering it, "yeah, yeah, loud and clear. I get it. Look, can we just cut the crap and get down to why the hell we're all here?"

She continued to glare at me for a few seconds before returning her attention to the others, "the reason I've called you all here is simple. We're launching our assault on Ghirlandio tonight. As you know, the engineer I had assigned to my squad previously was incapacitated, so I had to have a replacement assigned. That, plus the fact that a certain Gallian has recently joined the regiment," I felt my eye twitch as she gave me a sideways glance, "is why this assault has been put off for so long."

I stepped forwards, my mouth open to respond, but Leo put out a hand to stop me. I glanced at him, and he mouthed silently "not worth it. Not now."

"As such, I've assigned all of you to my personal squad. Leo," she turned to the sniper, "you will provide support fire from above whenever possible. Make sure they know a sniper is around. They won't be in such a hurry to open fire if they know someone can pick them off if they try. If there are any explosives that can open a path for us such as ragnite canisters or crates of grenades or ammunition, don't be afraid to use them."

"Yes Ma'am," Leo gave a salute, and Selvaria gave a satisfied nod before turning to Ox.

"Oxford, you will accompany me and the engineer as a lancer on the front lines. What you do from there is up to you."

"And I'm here... why?" I scratched absentmindedly at my forehead as Selvaria turned back to me, her jaw set in annoyance.

"Ah, you. I'd almost forgotten about you," I felt my own jaw instinctively set as she spoke, my eyes narrowing as she tilted her head slightly before speaking again, "His Grace wants me to monitor where you are in terms of usefulness on the battlefield. As such, you will accompany me, the engineer, and Oxford on the front lines. Understood?"

"I got it. But," I started, giving a slight pause to make sure she was listening to me before continuing, "don't expect me to follow orders if I see a better way through than the one you're having us take. If I see a better way, I'm taking it, regardless of what your orders are. You got that, Selvaria?"

She gave me a long hard glare as she took a step forwards, then two, then a third until she was a mere foot away from me, towering over me with a glowering anger in her eyes, "while you are under the command of the Imperial army, you will recognize that I am a General, and will refer to me as such. And I'm not so certain that disobeying my orders is a risk you want to be taking, soldier."

"Damn straight it's a risk I'll take," I crossed my arms, "and my name isn't 'soldier,' _General. _It's Drake."

There was a short silence as I stood in a standoff with the cause to many of my current problems. She turned to the others, "engineer, Leo, Oxford... please try to not shoot this one by accident. The fact that he is Gallian will make no difference in the punishment that follows such an act."

I felt my eye twitch again, "when the time comes, I'm going to enjoy driving you insane far more than I should."

She merely glanced at me, then stated, "I want you all ready to go within the hour. Dismissed!"

Leo, the engineer, and Oxford all went into a salute as I sauntered towards the flap of the tent. As I stepped out, I felt a fist connect with the back of my head, sending me sprawling forwards as Leo's voice rang out, "what the HELL did you think you were doing!?"

"Does it matter?" I grumbled as I glared back at him, somehow retaining my balance and keeping myself from falling on my face.

"Hell, yes it matters!" he shouted, "the worse of an opinion the General has of you, the more likely you're going to be dead before this war is over!"

"And what makes you think I care about what the General thinks?" I crossed my arms.

He gaped at me, "did you even listen to a single word I just said?! How stupid are you?!"

"Clearly quite stupid," Oxford's voice echoed in my ears. I turned to him, and he had his helmet under his arm, glowering at me. His hands flexed as he continued, "I don't particularly care what went on between you and the General, but I will not abide by any insults to the person I most respect. Watch your step, boy, because one wrong step may be the last you make."

I snorted, "whatever. I don't really care what anyone here thinks. If you don't like my attitude, you can damn well deal with it, and that includes her!"

I pointed at the tent, and Oxford's eyes narrowed, "I look forwards to seeing how you fare on the battlefield."

"Same to you," I spat, then turned on my heel, and walked off to gather my supplies. I had a feeling it was going to be a LONG night...


	7. Chapter 2: Assault on Ghirlandio

I do not own Valkyria Chronicles. If I did, Selvaria would not have died. At least, not in such a miserable way. Also, I've been given permission by the author BlindFury the Ultimate to use some of his OC's. I will only say this: Oxford belongs to BlindFury the Ultimate, and is being used with permission.

* * *

DRAKE

I fingered the lance in my hands with a certain bitterness on my tongue that made me want to spit. It was an anxiety I just couldn't shake, and it was beginning to annoy me. My hands constantly flexed, never stopping for more than a few seconds as I gathered what I needed. Ammunition, mainly. I swept all the clips I'd gathered into the pouch on my waist as Otto's voice rang through the tent as he entered, "hey Drake, have you seen my survival knife?"

"Nope."

"Aw... I was really hoping I'd find it before combat started," Otto groaned, his helmet rattling slightly as he shook his head, "oh, well... maybe I'll check to see if Oxford has it. I did let him borrow it a few days ago."

"What for? Self-castration?"

There was a short silence before Otto stated "dude... you have one sick, twisted mind. I don't care what kind of issues you have, that was just dark and demented."

I shrugged, standing up and giving my handgun a quick check, "I guess that goes to show what I'm like. Dark humor, easy to set off... the whole deal."

Another silence. Otto shifted his weight slightly before he finished, "the assault starts in the next hour or two, and the general wants us all ready. You think you're ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," I hefted the lightweight combat lance that I'd gotten to replace my old man's. While my old one had worked like a charm, this one was meant to give the carrier speed, not much heavier than twice that of an assault rifle. I strode past him without another word, and smirked as I took out the survival knife at my waist, "I don't think he's getting this back anytime soon," I mused, then sheathed it, and went to meet up with Leo.

It was almost time to move out.

* * *

I let out a curse as the first artillery shells proceeded to blast a hole in the Gallian defenses, driving them back even further from the wall and seeming to rock the foundations of the earth themselves. The sky was a light, rusted glow as the sun continued to descend behind my own country's lines, and I watched as the Empire quickly made short work of the first soldiers as the battle begun.

Valkyrur almighty, which idiot had been put in charge of this dump? Nobody could ever hope to screw up this badly on the battlefield-

As the communications radio I'd swiped before we had left camp blared in my ear, I rolled my eyes. Never mind. There was an idiot who could screw this up for Gallia worse than any other man.

General Damon.

Valkyrur. Damn it. All. To hell.

Why would they choose that stupid fatass after his screw ups in EW1? The idiot was a complete disgrace. His own father said so himself.

I shook my head, breaking free of my own thoughts and keeping myself in the present. Finally, Selvaria broke off from the pack, speeding off to the left while the majority of the Empire's forces took the right side, chasing the Gallians as they made a hasty retreat. Not wasting any more time than I had to, I bolted after her, the engineer and Oxford close in tow, and Leo making a dash for a nearby tower, handgun in his grasp and a sniper rifle slung across his back before he disappeared inside.

The takeover of Ghirlandio had commenced.

I swallowed, unable to believe the pace everything went at, even as I aimed and fired at one of the ragnite canisters below, detonating it and sending my own countrymen to their deaths. Whatever foot soldiers we came across, Selvaria made quick work of, leaving hardly anything for me or Oxford, and judging from the look on his face, he wasn't enjoying it, but he kept quiet, taking aim when he could do so, whenever Selvaria didn't see them first. The engineer stayed close behind her, his breath labored, his hand on the ragnaid canister he'd brought with him, and - wait. Ragnaid...

I cursed under my breath. I knew there was something I hadn't considered bringing. Oh well.

I nearly froze as we rounded the next corner. Facing us was what seemed like an entire regiment of soldiers before a set of barracks, all of them aimed straight to fire at us. But it wasn't them that worried me, nor was it the barely visible sniper in the guard tower above that took aim towards us.

It was the duo of tanks that sat behind the soldiers, the barrels of their cannons swinging about slowly until they were trained on us, that made me bolt, dodging behind one of the storage units that littered the area as the first shots were fired. The constant beat of gunfire echoed in my ear as I found Oxford at my side, cursing as his arm began to bleed.

"Damn snipers," he hissed, "no honor to them. None!"

I glared at him, then turned my attention to the other storage unit, across the road-like opening that the soldiers to fire across, and there knelt Selvaria, her gun at her side, her teeth grit, the engineer beside her. She touched the radio at her ear, and her voice blared into my ear as my own adjusted to match the frequency of hers, "Marksworth, do you have a clear shot?"

In response, multiple gunshots sounded, and I risked a glance around the edge of the building, watching as the bodies of several soldiers hit the ground. Leo's voice echoed, "I have a clear shot, but there's too many of them for me to take out in rapid succession. Sniper rifles don't have that large of clips, and it takes time to aim properly - is that tank aiming at me? Oh, crap it is! Crap! Crap! Crap!"

Upon the last word, a tank shell was fired, slamming into a tower somewhere behind us, reducing a good chunk of it to rubble. My heart hammered in my chest for a long few seconds before Leo's groggy voice buzzed in my ear again, "ugh... I'm okay. I'm not doing that again, though. Not until those tanks are gone. Sorry guys."

"Coward," Oxford muttered, risking a glance around the edge of the bunker, pulling back as a bullet just about splattered his skull, "damn..."

"Why don't you try getting shot at by a tank when the rubble could kill you just as easily as the explosion?!" I hissed, then strode past him and glanced around the corner, searching for something I could use to blow the tanks sky high, or at least cause a distraction with. I pressed the radio in my ear, chewing at my lip as I spoke, "Leo, is there anything you see that could be used to send those tanks to hell?"

I released the button, and waited a long few seconds for the sniper's response, each passing instant sending me into a slight panic. Finally, Leo's voice once again rang in my ear, "well... I can see some ragnite canisters at the base of the tower the tanks are sitting by. But they're too far apart for me to blow them up at the same time. You'd need something like a bunch of grenades or a really big lance in order for that to work."

I gave a long, slow blink as I once again glanced around the edge, my eyes searching the base of the tower. Sure enough, around the base were several ragnite canisters, all spaced far enough apart as to not set each other off should one of them be ruptured. I turned my gaze to Oxford, who was biting at his lip, trying to think of some way to get around them without being shot, his good arm hefting his heavy lance, his hands flexing. Not even bothering to gauge how far apart the canisters were, I poked him in the arm, breaking his concentration and getting his attention. As soon as his eyes were fixated on me, I held out my free hands, my own lance set against the wall, "could I borrow that lance for a second? I've got an idea that might get us through, but my lance isn't powerful enough for it to work."

He snorted, hefting his lance out of my reach, "what could you possibly do with this? You couldn't hope to lift it, let alone use it."

I felt my eye twitch, my teeth grate as my frustration grew, "let me see it for a second and you'll find out."

"No."

It took every ounce of restraint I had to keep myself from kicking him right then and there, "are you seriously going to argue with me on something that might just save our asses over the sake of your pride?"

"No. I am arguing with you on this because there is nothing that you could come up with that could get us out of this mess, and whatever you have planned is outright not only outright suicidal - it could get us all killed," Oxford loomed over me, his teeth grating against each other, his eyes in a squint, "I can tell from the look in your eyes, boy. You are not getting anything, let alone my lance, from me."

A second passed. Then another. Then another.

I closed my eyes, nodding a couple of times, then opened them again, my jaw set, "you know what? I'm done."

Within the next instant, I had the survival knife drawn, the steel flashing in the light as I drove it into Oxford's leg. As soon as it bit into the muscle, the giant began to topple, a shout of pain and shock escaping his lips as he swayed. Taking my chance, I leaped, and drove both feet into his barrel-like chest, and we both crashed down to earth, his hands going to the jagged blade that had embedded itself in the side of his knee, his lance clattering to the ground. I rolled away from the man as fast as I could before falling on the thing like an animal, dragging it and myself into the open and hefting the sight to my eyes. Even as the bullets ripped by me, sheer luck being the only thing that kept me from being hit, I somehow managed to aim between the soldiers and tanks at the wall between the canisters. I muttered a slight prayer to the Valkyrur beneath my breath, then pulled the trigger.

As soon as my finger twitched on the metal arch that would mean destruction for all in the path of the projectile, I felt my shoulder and chest nearly rip themselves open, my uniform doing nothing to stop the bullets from piercing my skin. Nonetheless, the rocket surged forwards, and time slowed to a crawl as I fell to earth, and the missile hit its mark.

The effect was instantaneous.

A series of explosions heralded the utter destruction that I had wrought upon the foe. I craned my neck as far as I could make it go as flaming chunks of metal rained down from above, the remains of the canisters and the tanks blackened from the tongues of flame that licked at them. But it was the tower that took what was left of my breath away. With literally half its foundations taken out from under it, the tower swayed slowly from one side to the other before falling forwards, like a slain giant, to the earth, the stone bricks smashing themselves apart as it hit the ground. I wheezed slightly, a grin spreading itself across my face as the unmistakable feel of bloodstains made themselves prominent in my conscious mind, "boom, shakalaka."

"DRAKE!" my radio blared in my ear again, Leo's voice one of utter horror as a hailstorm of bullets drowned him out, the remaining soldiers falling beneath the power of Selvaria's gun. I glanced upwards as the engineer made his way over to my side, falling to his knees as he fumbled for the ragnaid, muttering the same fearful, unintelligible phrase over and over again beneath his breath.

"Don't bother," I wheezed, putting a hand on his as I struggled to sit up, "isn't that stuff meant for Selvaria? Wasn't that the idea?"

"I thought I told you to refer to me as 'general', soldier," the Valkyria's chilling voice sent a chill down my spine as I glared at her.

"Good to see you too," I snorted weakly, finally forcing myself into a sitting position, glaring at the engineer, "I told you, don't bother, you idiot. I'm fine."

"You are not fine," Selvaria hissed, suddenly standing over me. She grabbed onto me, and forced me back onto the ground as the engineer finally got the ragnaid out. Its chilling blue glow washed over me as he cut open my shirt, the wounds beginning to scab over once he'd removed the bullets from my body, numbing the pain enough for me to move, albeit with a lot of pain.

As I stood again, my gait somewhat unsteady, Oxford strode past, his glare set on me as he tossed the bloody knife and my lance at my feet. He never said a word as he picked his lance back up off the ground, and strode forwards, a slight limp in his gait as he walked, and without thinking, I kicked the knife back towards him. He turned, his gaze going from the knife to me as I removed the sheath from my belt, and tossed it towards him, "it's yours. Think of it as compensation for your leg."

Still, he said nothing, merely picking up the knife and wiping it on his pants before placing it in the sheath, and striding forwards again. But the glare in his eyes never left, telling me all I needed to know.

This isn't over.

"Soldier, we will speak about your actions later," Selvaria stated as I once again picked up my lance, "while I appreciate their intentions and their results, you still took unauthorized action that put yourself and those around you at risk, as well as the fact that you assaulted and wounded a superior. Also, His Grace's orders that we claim this citadel in as perfect a condition as possible. I will have to deal with you accordingly."

"Whatever," I huffed, hefting my lance back onto my shoulder, "I'm sure he'll forgive me if it means bringing this place under control. Plus, it can be fixed. And I would prefer to be called by my name. Drake. It's one syllable. It shouldn't be that hard to remember."

She sighed, then shook her head, once again taking the lead with me and the engineer struggling to keep up, Oxford having gone on ahead and Leo once again offering cover fire. As time went by though, I began to feel something else besides pain; something I could only describe as an echo from the past ringing in my mind, whispering to me from my own mind, as though saying _"let's see how useful you are."_

I felt my eyes narrow slightly as the pain numbed before disappearing completely, and my teeth gnash together in a sudden grin. The fatigue in my body dissipated in exchange for a feeling of near weightlessness, my blood pumping through my veins, adrenaline flooding my limbs as I suddenly found myself able to keep up with Selvaria with ease.

"Something wrong, Selvaria?" I shouted, vaulting over a barricade and tossing a grenade into a group of soldiers. There was a panicked shriek, and all five of them were consumed, their bodies sent flying in the funeral of flame, "you seem so slow all of a sudden."

As she turned to look at me, I took a long look at the lance in my hands, suddenly wondering why I had decided to use such a heavy duty weapon. Shrugging, I turned my gaze to the walls, searching for any other targets before continuing the dash forwards, caution thrown to the wind. By the time we had reached the bottom of the ramp leading down to the ground floor of Ghirlandio, there was almost nothing left; just a single tank as the remaining Gallians retreated out the back door, their movements panicked as they rushed, moving to get out of the fortress as fast as they could.

I merely brought my lance up, not even bothering to look through the sight before pulling the trigger. The shell punched into the tank, tearing through the armour and leaving it seem almost pathetic, like a dying dog trying to stand. As I found myself totally out of ammunition for my lance, I tossed it to the ground and drew my sidearm, though I no longer had any intention of shooting at the tank. As the tank moved to keep the most amount of soldiers at once out of the line of fire, I focused on the ones that I could see, every bullet ripping through their ranks and further thinning their numbers as they struggled to regroup and return fire long enough to escape.

It was only made clear when the shots of Selvaria's gun tore through their tank's radiator, sending it straight to hell.

They would be lucky to make it out at all.

As the action began to die down as the gates were finally shut, I felt fatigue begin to spread again. Slowly at first... but as though a dam had been holding it back, it smashed down on top of me, my muscles locking on themselves in a mixture of pain and sheer exhaustion. I gasped for breath, trying to keep myself on my feet, but the most I could do as I began to topple was keep my eyes open.

I looked up from where my eyes had fixed themselves to the ground to see Selvaria and the engineer, the latter looking just as exhausted as I felt. I watched the general's lips move, as though trying to speak, but whatever she said was drowned out by the laughter in my head. A powerful, proud laughter that continued to echo even as I fell.

_"Yes," _it called from the abyss of my subconscious, _"yes! You will do very nicely..."_

That's when everything fell into darkness.


End file.
